


❅ muérdago ❅

by IllestRin



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, Holiday Fic Exchange, Just a little angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Older Man/Younger Man, Pre-Canon, holiday fluff, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:34:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28204677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IllestRin/pseuds/IllestRin
Summary: A year before Malcolm is fired from the FBI he spends his Christmas in New York City with Gil.This is just a fluffy Christmas time pre canon get together told through snippets in time.
Relationships: Gil Arroyo/Malcolm Bright
Comments: 10
Kudos: 24
Collections: Prodigal Son Holidays Fic Exchange





	❅ muérdago ❅

**Author's Note:**

  * For [whatever55](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatever55/gifts).



December 2018

  


Malcolm is walking down a quiet street, admiring the quaint storefronts just beginning to open for the day. Malcolm was celebrating the solid five hours of sleep he had the night prior with a walk to his favorite coffee shop. 

It was the text he received from Gil that chilly December morning that sent his anxiety racing. 

_Are you visiting for Christmas this year, kid? I'm down an arm and could use help putting up the tree if you're in the area. Would love to see you._

Malcolm's footsteps falter and he stops dead in his tracks. 

His eyes were glued to the message on the phone's display and Malcolm spared a moment to be thankful for the sparse foot traffic at this time of day. Still, Malcolm steps to the side so as to not block anyone's path. People in D.C. weren't quite as rude as NYC if you got in their way, but they had their moments. 

But what does Gil mean _down an arm?_ What did Gil _do?_

Malcolm double checks the time on his phone, a quarter after 9 in the morning, before deciding to just call Gil and ask him directly instead of texting back. 

Gil picks up on the second ring. 

Malcolm decidedly ignores how pleased that makes him. 

"So what's this about you being down an arm?" Malcolm glances around to ensure that he is still decidedly alone before he continues his walk. 

"It's nothing, kid. Nothing you need to worry about. Are you visiting your family for the holidays?" Gil _sounds_ fine, but… 

"Gil, if you can't put up a tree by yourself then it's not nothing." 

"Maybe I just want your company." He hears Gil huff a laugh over the line, and it warms him immensely. Malcolm craves Gil's company, and even if Gil is just joking, the words mean a lot to him. 

"Well, as a matter of fact I am coming into the city for Christmas to see Mother and Ainsley. The FBI has.. seen fit that I take a short leave of absence. So I have most of this month off." Malcolm had hoped he could get away without letting Gil know about his temporary suspension, but apparently that was not in the cards. 

"Uh-huh. A short leave of absence. You never take time off Malcolm, what did you do?" 

Malcolm stops walking as he nears his destination and leans against the brick wall as he weighs his options. 

"Tell me what happened to your arm and I'll tell you what happened with the FBI." Malcolm chews on his lower lip, waiting. 

He hears Gil sigh over the line. "A suspect roughed me up, dislocated my shoulder. Also succeeded in breaking my arm." 

Malcolm's eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline. "Are you ok?? Gil? When did this happen?" 

"It's just a hairline fracture. The cast comes off in two weeks, barely hurts. I'm on modified duty until then. Happy now, Malcolm?" He doesn't sound aggrieved at least, which is a relief. "Now. What is this short leave of absence from the FBI about." 

"My superiors and I had a… difference of opinion in my last case. And they felt it would be for the best if I took a short vacation." Malcolm decidedly does not mention that he had no choice in the matter. Malcolm quickly switches gears in the hopes that Gil doesn't ask any further questions about his "vacation." 

"You know, if you need more help while you're healing I can always move up my plans to visit." 

"Don't worry about that too much, Malcolm. I've had this thing for a few weeks already. Don't change too much on account of me." Malcolm relaxes slightly at Gil's easy tone. 

"If you're sure, Gil."

"I'm sure. See you in a week then, city boy." Malcolm disconnects the call feeling more at peace with himself than he had since he received the temporary suspension a week prior. 

Malcolm steps away from the wall and finally enters the coffee shop, already searching for an earlier train ticket on his phone. 

The barista looks up from where she was wiping down the counter. "Oh, Mr. Bright. Large coffee to go?" He nods, still distracted. Malcolm drops a large bill on the counter to cover his drink and tip. 

There is so much that he has to do before now and when he sees Gil again. He cannot contain his excitement. 

Malcolm is startled out of his thoughts when the barista sets his cup down in front of him. "Penny for your thoughts?" 

"Huh? Oh. Thanks Elena." He smiles at her and grabs his coffee. "It's just been a long week. Happy Holidays."

Malcolm walks back to his D.C. apartment with a bit more pep in his step than he had when he set out that morning.

  


❅ ❆ ❅

  


In the week before Malcolm left to spend a few weeks in NYC he had a few minor details to see to. 

First, accommodations. 

Malcolm had originally planned to stay at a hotel in the city. Staying with his Mother for extended periods of time never ended well. A minor disagreement could easily turn into a major confrontation when Jessica and Malcolm were under the same roof together for far too long. No, it was much better for their relationship if he stayed somewhere else. 

When he told Gil of his plans Malcolm received an immediate invitation to stay with the other man in the spare room. Gil refused to hear his objections on the matter. 

Since he was staying with Gil and not at an upscale hotel Malcolm decided to hire a pet sitter to check in on his beloved pet bird Sunshine, instead of worrying about bringing her along with him. It would be much less stressful for her to stay home anyway, and Shannon came highly recommended. 

All that Malcolm had left to do was to pack. 

And count down the days.

  


❅ ❆ ❅

  


Malcolm gets off the train at Penn Station with his luggage in tow and walks off in search of Gil. The older man had offered to pick him up at the train station instead of Malcolm taking a taxi or Uber back to Gil's house. 

Though the 3 hour train ride is definitely not the longest trip he has ever taken, Malcolm is still ready to be done traveling today. 

Malcolm is even more ready to just see Gil again. 

Malcolm hasn't set foot in the city in nearly a year, though it has only been about six months since he last saw Gil when he visited for a quick weekend. 

Although his visits are rare, Malcolm enjoys playing the tourist whenever Gil graces his doorstep. 

Malcolm finds Gil standing off to the side waiting for him, and Malcolm's smile drops slightly at the sight of Gil with his left arm in a cast. 

Gil takes one of his bags with his good arm, against Malcolm's objections, and they make the walk to exit the station in companionable silence. 

Anytime Malcolm is back alongside Gil it's like no time has passed since the last time they were together. Ever comfortable in the company of his oldest friend. 

Once Malcolm's luggage is stored in the Le Mans, and the two of them are back on the road towards Gil's house, does Malcolm take a moment to stare at Gil's arm. Resting against the closed window, Gil's left arm is encased in a light blue cast starting at the middle of his hand. Malcolm assumes it goes all the way to Gil's elbow, judging by the unnatural thickness hidden by the other man's sweater. 

"Why don't you take a picture, it'll last longer." 

Malcolm's gaze slides up towards Gil's face, still staring forward as he drives, smiling lightly. 

"Sorry." He hopes Gil didn't think he was judging him, Malcolm didn't even stop to consider if Gil was self conscious about the injury. 

"I was just teasing, Malcolm. What's on your mind?" He can see Gil glance at him out of the corner of his eye. 

"Can I sign it?" Malcolm nods his head at Gil's arm. 

"Of course, City Boy."

  


❅ ❆ ❅

  


The first thing Malcolm does after getting his luggage stored in the guest room is ask for a sharpie so that he can sign Gil's cast. 

Gil was ready for Malcolm as he met the older man back in the living room. Gil stands there with a look of faint amusement on his face, holding out a sharpie. Malcolm deftly ignores how much he enjoys the lingering warmth where their fingers touch as Gil hands over the permanent marker. 

Sharpie in hand Malcolm watches Gil struggle to remove his sweater, to grant easier access to the rest of his arm cast. 

"We don't have to do this right now, Gil." 

"I have to get this off at some point today," Gil grumbles from underneath his sweater. 

"Would you…" Malcolm starts to offer some assistance, before Gil cuts him off gently. 

"No, no, I got it. Thanks." 

Once the sweater has been peeled off of Gil's cast, he gives Malcolm an apologetic smile. "Thank you for the offer, this just gets annoying after a while." Gil waves the cast gently in the air for emphasis. 

"I can imagine." Malcolm notes that the light blue plaster cast ends at the junction of Gil's elbow. Malcolm can see the scrawls of other patrons to leave their mark on Gil's cast. 

Once Gil holds out his arm for Malcolm to take he can get a closer look at the signatures already covering the cast. He doesn't recognize any of their names, though a few have drawn pictures by their names. 

Gil guides them both to sit down on the couch before Malcolm uncaps the sharpie. He can feel Gil staring intently at him as he looks for an appropriate spot to add his own name. Malcolm can feel his face heat under the intensity of that gaze. 

Satisfied with where he wants to leave his name, Malcolm uncaps the sharpie and signs Gil's cast. He pauses for just a moment before he adds an extra embellishment around his name. 

Gil gently removes his arm from Malcolm's hold and inspects the new addition. 

"Bird tracks?"

"For Sunshine."

Gil graces Malcolm with a soft smile. "Thanks, kid."

  


❅ ❆ ❅

  


The two of them settle into a routine over the next few days. After Gil leaves for work in the morning, Malcolm heads out into the city on his own. Once to meet up with his Mother and sister since he hasn't seen them in a while. But often just to get reacquainted with the city that he spent most of his life in. 

The more things changed, the more they stayed the same. 

Buildings were ever evolving, businesses moving in and out, structures going up and coming down, the cycle of construction never ceasing to end. 

New York City was big, it was loud, and oftentimes smelled bad, but it was home. 

There wasn't much Malcolm could do to occupy himself while Gil was at work, and he didn't want to sit in the house all day. So he wandered. 

New York City at Christmas was a sight to see. 

At this time of day the Rockefeller ice skating rink wasn't overly crowded. Malcolm stopped to admire the giant tree standing proudly in the middle of the plaza. He missed the lighting ceremony by a few weeks, but maybe he could convince Gil to come and look at the lights with him an evening this week. 

He should get Gil a Christmas present. 

Malcolm checks the time on his phone; it's only half past eleven. Plenty of time to have a look around the stores if there was anything he could find that Gil might like. 

Surely in a city as large as New York City there had to be something he could find for Gil. 

The one person that has always been there for him his entire life. 

The man he has secretly been in love with for a handful of years. 

But Malcolm was going to continue to ignore that little, minor detail for presumably the rest of his life.

  


❅ ❆ ❅

  


"So, how much longer until you get the cast removed?" Malcolm is dragging a box of ornaments out of the hallway closet when he poses his question to Gil. 

"I have an appointment early next week to get it removed." Malcolm sets the box of ornaments down and looks over at Gil. Having an arm in a cast has barely slowed Gil down at all, and Malcolm had to kick him out of the room when it came time to rearrange the furniture. 

Gil retreated to the kitchen with a laugh and a promise to make them both hot chocolate. Now Gil was standing and surveying the spot where they both agreed to set up the tree, still laying in its box. 

"Do you want me to move the couch again? Did you want to put the tree on the other side instead?" Malcolm stands at the arm of the couch ready to push the furniture into another position at the first word from Gil. 

Malcolm has been staying with Gil for almost a week now and though it definitely isn't the first time, this trip has so far been Malcolm's favorite. 

After Gil would return from work they would share dinner together, even watch a movie or some mindless show on TV. 

It's been oddly… domestic. 

Malcolm finds that he really likes it, craves it almost. 

Malcolm is fully aware that his vacation is temporary. Once Christmas is over he will be back in D.C. and back with the FBI. 

This is just a fantasy. 

And it can never be anything but a fantasy. 

Malcolm's easy smile slips from his face ever so slightly. 

"Malcolm? Did you hear me? Are you alright?" 

Gil's good hand is resting on the back of his neck, squeezing gently, grounding him. Malcolm can hear the concern lacing Gil's words. The sound of Gil's voice, and the hand on his neck, bringing Malcolm back. 

Malcolm looks up at Gil's face. He can see worry written plainly across the older man's face, his brows are furrowed as he looks over Malcolm. 

How long had Malcolm been lost in thought, staring off into space when he should have been helping Gil. 

"Gil, I'm sorry. Did you say something?" Malcolm tries to smile, tries to ease Gil's worries. It feels a bit forced. 

"Are you feeling alright, kid?" It's getting harder to concentrate again with the rough pad of Gil's thumb stroking the sensitive skin of Malcolm's neck. 

Malcolm forces himself to answer the question. 

"Yes, Gil, why wouldn't I be alright?" _No, Gil, I am in love with you. I am absolutely not ok._

Gil drops the hand from his neck and Malcolm mourns the loss more than he should. 

Gil gives him another once over, and nods. Seemingly coming to a decision, whether it was to accept the answer at face value or not, Malcolm is unsure. 

"You know you can talk to me, Malcolm. About anything." 

"I know, Gil. Thanks." 

And just like that, they move on. No awkwardness, no further mention of Malcolm's momentary lapse in focus. 

They put the tree up together. 

They string the lights up together. 

They hang the ornaments together. 

Then the two of them sit and appreciate their hard work together. 

The tree is absolutely beautiful. The way the lights dance and shimmer over the glittery baubles and glass balls creates an ethereal atmosphere. 

The beauty of the tree pales in comparison to the way the twinkling lights play across the plane of Gil's face. 

The sight of Gil takes Malcolm's breath away. 

The older man catches him staring, and chuckles, patting Malcolm's shoulder. 

Maybe everything will be ok.

  


❅ ❆ ❅

  


Gil gets the cast removed a few days after they set the tree up. The doctor gives him a clean bill of health. His fracture has fully healed. 

Malcolm is due to return back to D.C. in just another week's time, just after the annual Whitly Christmas party.

Gil is aware of Malcolm's infatuation towards him, and how could he not be. The kid looks at Gil like he hung the sun, moon, _and_ stars.

And, to be fair, Malcolm's affections are not entirely unwelcome. 

It was only recently that Gil began to look at Malcolm in a new light, maybe in the last several months. They would regularly text and call during their time apart. Gil made sure to send Malcolm care packages just like he used to when the kid was in college. So that Malcolm would know that he would always have someone to look after him, even if from afar. 

But this is all they could ever be.

Unless...

  


❅ ❆ ❅

  


"Are you sure about this, Gil? You just got your cast off two days ago." Malcolm and Gil were sitting on a bench, side by side. The latter was bent over already removing his shoes to replace them with the rental ice skates. It was obvious Gil was enjoying the freedom in his hand and arm again after weeks of having a cast. 

They were going ice-skating at Rockefeller Center, and Malcolm couldn't stop worrying about Gil falling and reinjuring himself. 

But Gil insisted they come. 

And so here they were. 

The rink wasn't overly busy, but it was still fairly early in the day. Gil had managed to leave work early and the evening crowd has yet to show up. 

Malcolm still worries. 

He worried more than he looked forward to the idea of _ice skating with Gil._ But that was just because Malcolm was worried that Gil could fall and reinjure himself. 

Gil pauses and glances over at Malcolm, sensing his hesitancy. "Come on, kid." He bumps his shoulder gently against Malcolm. "You used to love ice skating. I figured you would be out there already. What's eating at you?" 

Malcolm cannot help but squirm slightly under that gaze. "Nothing is eating at me. I just don't want you taking too many chances too soon with your arm is all." Malcolm looks away and pulls at his laces to remove his shoes and catch up with Gil. 

He can still feel Gil's eyes on him, almost like a physical caress. 

Malcolm has noticed that Gil has been looking at him more and more lately, an unreadable expression in his warm dark eyes. 

Maybe Gil just had a lot on his mind recently. 

Malcolm was lacing his last skate when he feels Gil pat him on the shoulder. 

Standing in front of him, hand extended for Malcolm to take. "You ready?" 

He is. 

Malcolm takes Gil's hand. 

They get their shoes stored in a locker. The first half hour of their time on the ice passes without incident. Malcolm loses himself in the lazy passes around the rink with Gil. 

Gil isn't the first one to fall during their outing on the ice. A young child loses control on their skates and knocks into Malcolm, causing the latter to fall to the ice. Hard. The kid slides further away, uninjured, and is helped back up by his mother, yelling out a "sorry mister" as he goes.

Malcolm manages to avoid taking anyone else down with him thankfully. 

"Malcolm! Are you ok?" Gil grabs onto the side of the rink to come to a stop quicker. The concern in Gil's voice warms him, especially when Malcolm can feel the chill start to set in after a moment. 

Malcolm's pants and a good portion of his front end up soaked from his less than graceful spill on the ice. He is definitely going to need to change his clothes soon. 

"I'm alright." Cold and damp, but not injured. His ego took more of a hit than his knees did. Malcolm was not new to ice skating, and after spending a few years of his youth in ballet, he was far more graceful on his feet than this. But little could be done about the force of a small child. 

Malcolm couldn't be too upset at the kid for accidentally knocking into him. Not when Gil was standing there, a tender expression on his face, hand extended for Malcolm to take. 

Malcolm accepts the proffered hand, leveraging himself back to his feet. 

"Thanks, Gil." Malcolm offers his gratitude with a smile. 

"You want to keep going? Or are you ready to head back, kid?" 

Malcolm knows that he won't be able to stay out as long as they had originally planned now that his clothes are wet from falling on the ice. 

"Once more around and then hot chocolate after?" Malcolm cannot smother the hopeful tone in his voice. Hot chocolate with Gil sounds like a perfect evening. 

Gil chuckles. "You got it."

The two of them take one last leisurely lap around the ice rink. 

Malcolm cannot help but notice that Gil never drops his hand. 

Malcolm has never been so happy to fall on his face before.

  


❅ ❆ ❅

  


"Are you sure this looks alright?" Malcolm watches as Gil smooths his hands down the front of his dark green sweater. Gil's sweater has a cable knit pattern down the front and Malcolm just wants to run his hands down the front to feel the texture. Is it as soft as it looks? It must be. 

Malcolm thinks Gil has never looked better. 

"You look fine, Gil. You don't need to dress to impress anyone." Malcolm tries to straighten the bottom of his waistcoat, to occupy his hands. "Besides my family I'm not even sure who else is even going to be there."

If Malcolm was being honest, he really didn't care who else was going to be there. His mother, his sister, and the man standing in front of him. An entire planet populated with seven and a half billion people and his entire world depended on three people. 

Three people and a parakeet. 

Gil turns towards him finally and Malcolm averts his eyes, casting his eyes toward the floor. Worried he had been caught staring, Malcolm gives an awkward shrug of one shoulder. "You ready?" 

The two of them make the journey to the Whitly house without any problem, and Malcolm is thankful for that. 

The door of the Whitly house is decorated with a festive wreath, lit up and sparkling with lights wound through it.

Malcolm knocks lightly on the door and steps back to wait. He doesn't have to wait long for the door to be opened by Luisa. "Mr. Bright. Mr. Arroyo." She nods at each of them in turn and opens the door wider for both of them to enter. 

"Thank you Luisa. Is Mother around?" 

She leads the two of them through Malcolm's lavishly decorated childhood home to where his mother is chatting amicably with a few of her friends. 

Though infinitesimal compared to the galas of Christmases past, Malcolm was pleased to see his mother holding modest gatherings again. No longer populated by the elite members of New York City society, Malcolm counts about a dozen or so of his mother’s closer friends and acquaintances. 

Jessica Whitly stands from the couch with a graceful movement, champagne flute in her hand. She smiles as she walks over to Malcolm and throws her free arm around him in a half hug. "Malcolm, _darling._ You're late." Pulling back, his mother gives them both another once over. "And, Gil. I hope you've been keeping my son out of trouble." 

He hears Gil chuckle softly behind him, and Malcolm tries his best not to blush at the light response. "I do my best." 

"Well, you two enjoy yourselves. Your sister is around here somewhere." Jessica twirls off to go back to her conversations and Malcolm turns to Gil and shrugs. His mother has always been a little bit dramatic in everything she does. 

"Shall we then." Malcolm offers Gil an easy smile, and gestures to the rest of the house with a sweep of his arm. 

Gil wanders off in search of refreshments, and Malcolm walks off to check in with his sister. 

Malcolm finds Ainsley with her current fling. She greets her brother with a quick hug, before she fills him in on everything that he's missed out on since the last time they've talked. He really does miss being around his sister more, but his job keeps him away from the city too much. 

He listens for a few minutes more before he excuses himself. Malcolm is just ready to be back at Gil's house if he's honest, but he needs to socialize.

Malcolm mingles a little bit more with the other guests his mother has invited before he excuses himself. 

By Malcolm’s best estimates, they have been at his mother's gathering for close to two hours. He has seen Gil in passing, enjoying pleasant conversation with the other guests. The last time he saw Gil, the other man was sitting with his Mother, and Malcolm felt a pang he couldn't explain. 

No, that wasn't quite right. 

He could explain it.

Malcolm just didn't want to acknowledge it. 

Malcolm might be half in love with Gil, but it could never work. 

Spending these last few weeks in Gil's home with him, the time spent together has been nothing short of magical. But, it isn't real. They are just friends, and Malcolm's feelings are going to ruin that if he doesn't pay attention. 

Malcolm's mindless wandering finds him near an unoccupied section of his childhood home. The party populated the front of the house, the lavish living room, the dining room, and other connecting rooms. Malcolm was free to have a few minutes to himself in this back hallway. Malcolm leans up against the wall and closes his eyes for a moment. 

"There you are."

Maybe a few minutes was wishful thinking. Malcolm can't be too disappointed, as he turns his head to look at Gil.

Gil comes to stand in front of him, a concerned expression on his face. "Are you feeling alright, Malcolm?"

"I just needed a moment away from everyone. Are you having fun?" Malcolm wants to make sure that Gil is enjoying himself at least. 

"I'd come for the food alone, kid." Gil rubs the front of his sweater and laughs softly. "I don't think I've ever eaten that many small appetizers before. I'll have to get the name of the caterer." 

Malcolm chuckles. "I'm not sure even _I_ want to know the catering bill." 

"Think I can sneak out some leftovers?" 

"I'm sure a to-go box can be arranged." 

Gil glances above Malcolm's head. 

"Have you noticed where you're standing?" 

Malcolm looks up to see what Gil is getting at. His breath catches in his throat momentarily at the sight. 

Above Malcolm's head hangs a sprig of small green leaves, with small white berries scattered throughout. The stems are tied together with a beautiful red ribbon. 

Mistletoe. 

Malcolm is standing under _fucking mistletoe._

Standing in front of the one person he wants to kiss. 

"Oh." 

Malcolm knows he is blushing, can feel the warmth in his face. 

The look on Gil's face, though… 

Malcolm couldn't begin to place the emotion on Gil's face.

_What was…_

Gil leans down slowly and brushes his lips against Malcolm's.

Just a simple press of lips against his. 

Malcolm fists a hand in Gil's sweater and tries to pull him closer, wants to deepen the kiss more than anything. 

Gentle hands at his shoulders still his advances, keep Malcolm from pulling Gil closer. Gil straightens up after their brief kiss, backing up just a step keeping Malcolm at arm's length. 

"Malcolm, I-" Gil begins.

Malcolm's blood runs cold. 

Did Gil regret the kiss?

_Already?_

Surely Gil didn't think it was a mistake. He was the one who initiated the kiss. 

But that doesn't stop the anxiety coursing through Malcolm's veins. 

"I need some air." 

Malcolm ducks under Gil’s arms and heads towards the front door. He will have to apologize to his mother later. Right now he needs out. 

Malcolm manages to avoid anyone on his exit from the house, and Gil doesn't pursue him.

Outside on the street Malcolm takes a deep breath, letting the cold air clear his head momentarily. 

Not ready to go back in, Malcolm starts walking.

  


❅ ❆ ❅

  


"Malcolm."

Every muscle in Malcolm's body freezes at the sound of Gil’s voice. He had hoped that it would have taken Gil a bit longer to find him. 

Not that Malcolm made it too hard for Gil to find him. 

They are both silent for a moment, staring out over the ice rink at Rockefeller. The tree towered over the plaza, lit up and sparkling. 

It was beautiful. 

"Gil, I'm sorry. We can just forget about it. _Please._ Please, Gil." Malcolm knows he's begging, knows he's desperate. Cold fingers grip the railing tighter, as he chokes back tears that are threatening to spill. Malcolm cannot let himself cry in front of Gil, especially because of this. 

"Malcolm. Look at me." Gil's voice was exceedingly gentle. 

Malcolm closes his eyes, not ready to look at the other man. 

"Please." 

Malcolm turns when he hears the plea fall from Gil's lips. 

He opens his eyes slowly to gaze upon his beloved, and is surprised to see the naked affection written across Gil's face. 

"But, I thought-"

Gil takes one of Malcolm’s hands, and squeezes it gently. "You ran out before I had a chance to explain. I also didn't want your mother to walk in on us making out in the back hallway." 

Malcolm blushes, laughing nervously. "Oh, you have a point." 

Gil looks thoughtful for a moment.

"Would you look at that. You're standing under mistletoe again."

Malcolm looks around himself, at the ice rink behind him, confused. "Gil, what are you talking about? There's no mistletoe anywhere." Malcolm turns back to Gil. 

In Gil's other hand he is holding a sprig of mistletoe, held just above Malcolm's head. A fond smile gracing his face and a question in his eyes. 

A slight nod of his head, and Gil drops the mistletoe to the ground, forgotten. Gil slides the fingers of his now free hand to the back of Malcolm's neck. 

Malcolm can no longer feel the cold of the air as fire runs through his veins once Gil claims his lips once more. 

Malcolm fists his free hand in Gil's sweater like he had earlier, and loses himself in the sensations. The warmth of Gil's mouth against his, the scratch of beard against Malcolm's stubble, the rhythmic stroking of a thumb along the side of Malcolm's neck. 

_This one single moment in time…_

Nothing in Malcolm's life compares. 

Gil breaks the kiss, pulling back slightly. 

"Do you understand now, Malcolm?" Gil continues to stroke the side of his neck with his thumb. 

"I.. think I do now." Malcolm should be embarrassed at how breathless he sounds after such a chaste kiss. 

Another gentle press of lips against his. 

_Malcolm is so happy._

"Do you want to go home and open your present now?" Malcolm squeezes Gil's hand a little tighter. 

"You didn't have to get me anything, Malcolm." A whisper of a kiss to the top of Malcolm's hair. 

"I know, but I wanted to." The two of them start walking back towards the Le Mans, hand in hand, and Malcolm has never felt happier. 

"So what did you get me?" 

"If I told you then it wouldn't be a surprise, Gil. You'll have to wait and find out for yourself."

A kiss under the mistletoe. 

This was definitely Malcolm's favorite Christmas ever.

**Author's Note:**

> If you are 18+ please come on over to the [Prodigal Son Trash Discord](https://discord.gg/KZxYFDJ)


End file.
